


3. This Is How We Do It

by Kaleidograph



Series: Ghost Stories [3]
Category: Ghostbusters (Movies)
Genre: Drinking to Cope, Monsters, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleidograph/pseuds/Kaleidograph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar, Ryan, Marie, and Alan must band together after they are attacked in a bar. Oscar makes his case for Marie to stay in New York. (Rated teen & up for drinking and expletives.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	3. This Is How We Do It

“A double of Laphroaig, up, and a glass of water, please,” Oscar ordered politely. “Are you having anything to drink?”  
“I’ll take a diet Pepsi.”  
“Nothing stronger?” Oscar goaded. Alan shrugged.  
“Erm… Alright, I’ll have a... uh… make it a Crown and Diet Pepsi.”  
“And a Crown and diet please.”  
“I suppose bringing up ancient history is not the smoothest way to re-introduce oneself.”  
“You suppose correctly, my good friend. I don’t think she took too kindly to being reminded of the Marshmallow Incident of 1995.”  
“I suppose not. I was glad to hear you and Ryan are doing well. How long have you been together?”  
“Seven years.”  
“Do you think… think she’ll come over here?” Alan gestured discreetly to where Marie was perched.  
“Not a chance, brother. Not if she doesn’t think it’s her own idea.”  
“Should I ask?”  
“Not if you want to leave this bar in one piece," Oscar warned, not looking up from his Laphroaig. 

Oscar watched Marie sip her vodka & cranberry with a wistful, yet salty look upon her face. Ryan had snuck off to play pinball and eat French fries in the back of the bar, leaving Oscar to coach Alan on how to approach Marie again, if ever. Finally, Oscar became fed up with Marie’s indignance and Alan’s indecisiveness. If anyone could handle her, he could. In this instance, it was going to have to be him.

“Hey Marie, how long are you staying in town?”  
“Long enough to make sure Mom is alright. Probably a couple more days, then I’m heading back to Florida. Why?”  
“Just curious. I thought I might see if you were interested in coming on a job with us… one for old time’s sake.”  
“You mean to tell me you guys are actually getting calls? I’m impressed,” Marie hissed.  
“Is that so hard to believe? Business was still good, around the time you took off.”  
“Yes, emphasis on was. Sorry if my going to find greener pastures offends you, but I did what I had to do.”  
“Marie—Spengler left you everything. He obviously wanted you to come back and finish what he started. From day one, all he wanted was for you to take the reins. The day you came into the office and asked to learn more, he wanted you to take it over. You had the perfect balance of business acumen and talent, I just can’t understand why you left when everything was going so well. And Ryan misses you.”

Marie was shocked. Oscar always had a way of bluntly explaining things to her without sugarcoating. His last sentence stopped her in her tracks. “Ryan misses you.” She missed her best friend, too. 

For all of Marie’s twenty-three years, and all of Ryan’s twenty-one, they had been the best of friends. Sleepovers every weekend, birthday parties, tumbling classes, sharing dresses and sneaking makeup into school, catching ghosts for a living—they did everything together. Ryan and Marie were inseparable. They understood each other. They balanced each other out. Marie’s heart sank, because she missed Ryan, too. 

On the other hand, Oscar knew the implications of Marie taking control of the Ghostbusters: For as talented and shrewd as she was, she was also a perfectionist, and in less-than-kind terms, a ball-busting taskmaster. He knew he could hack it working alongside her, as could Ryan. His concern was that Alan would not be able to keep up. Long, arduous hours, studying and training were all the product of being raised by Egon Spengler. This translated over well to her nursing career, which Oscar knew she would be more than reluctant to leave behind. 

“I… don’t know,” Marie answered, her tone much softer than before. “I have a life now. A good one. And this city will always be home, but I’m happy there.” Ryan’s ears perked up.  
“You say that, but are you, really?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then why can’t you sleep?”

Before Marie could contemplate Ryan’s cutting words, a loud CRASH and a GROWL was heard from the back room. The hairs on the back of Oscar’s neck stood on end. Immediately, almost everyone had the same sinking feeling: Their bad day was about to get even worse. It quieted in the bar, and the few patrons that remained in the bar quickly scattered to the exits. Alan pulled a small device from the pocket of his trousers, and began frantically punching buttons. 

“What you got, Alan?” Oscar asked, peering over Alan’s shoulder.  
“Something’s here.”  
“Okay, we established that a while ago. What else?”  
“It’s class six.” Oscar grinned.  
“Showtime.”  
Marie and Ryan knew what that meant. Ryan pulled a notebook from her large purse and Oscar began to draw schematics on it, as if he were a coach making plays on the football field.

“Alright, we’ve got a class six, and no equipment. Weapons. What have we got around here?”  
“Pool cues,” Ryan answered, bringing sticks to the table. Oscar snapped two in half and handed one end to Marie and another to Alan.  
“151 and a lighter,” Marie chimed in. Oscar wrote and scribbled frantically, knowing they didn’t have much time.  
“Alright, Ryan, run as fast as you can and bring the car around. Alan and Marie, I want you to handle the bar. Molotovs, all day. Back me up on hand to hand. Everyone got it?”  
“HEARD,” Marie and Ryan both shouted, as if it were a reflex. 

No sooner had they drawn up a battle plan, a towering, lion-esque creature with jagged claws and alligator-like skin tore through the back door of the bar. It swiped at Ryan, who swiftly dodged and bolted out of the door. Marie and Alan leapt over the bar and began pulling liquor bottles down and stuffing them with bar rags. They lit several Molotov cocktails and hurled them at the beast, while Oscar fended it off with the business end of a sharp wooden spear. The Molotovs didn’t work. The bartender crouched down behind the bar, shaking and paler than the moon.

“Hey, you got anything else here? Sharp, heavy, otherwise hazardous?” Marie yelled at the barkeep.  
“Knives in the kitchen!” she screamed, as if she thought someone would harm her. Alan bolted toward the kitchen and came back with as many knives as he could carry. Passing one to Marie, they clinked their blades together and climbed back over the bar. The beast turned to attack them, and Alan pounced. The beast was too strong, and overpowered him in the blink of an eye. 

Tires screeched outside as Ryan whipped the car onto the curb, and hauled a trap into the bar.  
“No packs?!” Oscar panicked.  
“Why do we need packs?! It’s not like this happens every day!”  
“You have any better ideas?”  
“Yeah, stand back!” Ryan shouted, holding her hands out in front of her. The scaly creature lunged at Ryan, but recoiled in pain when it met her hands, which sent a burst of white light into it. Oscar knew this was their only opportunity to take the beast down.  
“ATTACK!” He commanded, and Marie instinctively plunged the knife into the creature’s back, slitting it from its shoulders down its spine. The creature collapsed in a heap on the floor, and Alan watched in amazement, his eyes the size of saucers.

“That… was…. Wow….” Alan heaved, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve.  
“Alright, anyone wanna field a guess as to what that was all about?” Marie spat, nudging the dead monster over with her toes. Ryan knelt down to examine it.  
“Class Six… Chimera.”  
“Of all the gin joints in the world, what’s a Chimera doing in this one?” Marie grumbled. Oscar and Ryan shared a worried glance. Marie knew what that look meant. “Oh, don’t tell me this is nothing new.”  
“Marie—this is why we need you back,” Oscar pleaded. Marie wouldn’t hear it.

“I can’t, Oscar. I have obligations. I have a life. Ryan—don’t start—“Too late. Ryan started.  
“You can’t sleep at night because of what you saw. And you don’t know which scared you more: the code you ran, or the night Kestrel—“  
“Say that name one more time and I’ll make sure they’re your last words.”

 

Alan wasn’t quite sure what was going on. He understood the part about the code—she was a nurse, she had obviously witnessed some massively traumatic event—but Kestrel? Why did that name sound so familiar? He saw how quickly Marie was frightened and angered by the mention of that name, so he didn’t bother to bring it up. Oscar and Ryan also backed down, knowing this was a battle they’d rather not pick.

“Come on, Rye. Let’s go home. Alan, you coming?” He glanced at them, then back at Marie, who was ordering another vodka cranberry. He didn’t know her well, but he knew that she had to be going through the hardest days of her life. Someone needed to be there for her.

 

“Aren’t you going to stay? I mean, she’s your best friend. She just lost her dad. Stepdad, whatever. Point is—don’t you think we should be there for her?” Alan was right. The three of them surrounded Marie, and Oscar and Ryan wrapped their arms around her on either side, so she couldn’t escape the group hug. Alan joined in, because he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do with his arms. 

 

“Whatever you decide to do,” Oscar softly spoke, “we love you. And we’re here for you.” Marie wanted to cry. Instead, she tossed back the rest of her drink and ordered another.  
“I’m proposing a toast; For the best of us all. The original recipe. The *hic* best of the Busters. The best dad. The best fucking friend I ever had. Raise a glass, bitches,” Marie drunkenly slurred, swirling her drink around in her glass. Oscar and Alan both ordered another round of their whiskies and scotches, and Ryan ordered a water. They all raised their glasses. “To my dad. To Spengler,” Marie called out.

“To Spengler.”

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, a FUN one! A break from all the grief and monotony! This is the first time we see the four of the new generation fight together, and it's very telling of their group dynamic and how well they work together.


End file.
